Nothing could surprise Major Mint anymore. In the past two years, he had seen armies being slaughtered, villages destroyed by giant rodents and statues which had, once upon a time, been living people. Parthenia had always been a magical place, where the impossible wasn't quite as impossible as we'd reckoned, and Mint had been living in it for 48 years. So no, nothing could surprise the Major anymore; not even a giant nutcracker. In fact, Mint had a strong suspicion where that nutcracker came from. After all, who else had the power to make inanimate objects come to life? He drew his sword and stepped towards this particular object.

"Well," he declared, "what have we here?"

His fellow officer, Captain Candy, stepped up beside him, his own sword drawn. "A wooden spy," he commented, clearly thinking along the same lines. "Some new kind of Mouse King trap?"

"Kidnappers as well!" Mint announced as he noticed the nutcracker's companions. One was a teenage girl who clearly wasn't from this kingdom. Where she came from, Mint didn't know, but the two children with her were clearly Parthenian. The costumes were too obvious. The foreigner was dressed less elaborately, in what looked like a nightgown. Why she was running around in a nightgown was beyond him. Still, the interrogation ought to clear that up. Not the children, though; there was no point interrogating them. There was no way of telling how long these children had been with them, but it was clear that Stockholm Syndrome had already kicked in. Or had it?

Candy pointed his sword towards the girl and the nutcracker. The villagers gathered around them, pointing their spears at the newcomers. Mint noted this with satisfaction; he'd done his job well. It was never a good idea to trust strangers, especially in times like this. He hadn't even wanted to throw the ladder down, but the Captain insisted they rescue them. "An enemy of an enemy is a friend," he'd told the Major as he'd seen the group getting chased by the Mouse King's army. Well, Mint wasn't so gullible, and he'd make sure the remaining citizens of Parthenia were on a similar wavelength. They'd thank him once they realised it would keep them alive. Those children would thank him too, once they realised they owed him his life. Still, children will be children. They weren't even remotely relieved to be away from their... kidnappers or rescuers?

No matter, we'll find out soon enough...

Having your kingdom taken over by a giant, tyrannical rodent could have a very nasty effect on you. The villagers were a walking textbook for aftershock. Paranoia, rage, depression... you name it, there's probably at least one person there who has it. Compared to them, Major Mint reckoned he'd done pretty well for himself. However, he had an excellent coping mechanism; when some people curled up into a ball or flew into a rage, Mint buried himself in his work.

To say the Major loved his job would be an understatement. He utterly adored the army. It had given him a purpose in his life. It had turned a gangly, awkward boy into a proud, confident man who would never disobey an order and would not rest until he'd completed a mission. He'd worked hard to reach his rank and he was certain he would've made Lieutenant Colonel by the end of the year if the Mouse hadn't gone and wiped his army out. Not just his regiment; with the exception of himself and Candy, every soldier in the Parthenian military had been slaughtered. Even then, Mint kept going. He'd been commanded to protect his people and heaven help him, he was going to do it, no matter how many weapons the Mouse threw in his direction. A small thing like a massacre wasn't going to stop him from doing his duty; if anything, it made it even more urgent. Who else was going to protect them, after all? So while the kingdom was destroyed around him, he'd done what he could. He'd saved as many people as he could find. There were some he could even consider friends, and he wasn't going to put them at risk because the Captain decided to be chivalrous and rescue a bunch of strangers; strangers that, as the interrogation went on, the Major began to distrust more and more. Especially that Nutcracker. All that talk about a "Sugar Plum Princess"... what was he? Mad?

"It's the truth," insisted the wooden man. "Told to me by Prince Eric himself."

And with that, any credibility he had went straight out the window. If there was one person Mint despised more than the Mouse King, it was Prince Eric. He'd be damned if he was going to listen to anything from that silly boy, not after he'd spent the last two years trying to fix what he'd left behind. The Major didn't know what had happened to the prince, nor did he really care. Candy did, however, and insisted that this princess could actually exist. Mint went along with it, but only because he really couldn't think of anything else to do. Every other plan had failed; why not put your faith in some mythical princess with super powers?

Still, he was sceptical. Even though he'd put himself in charge (there was no way he'd leave a dangerous expedition in the hands of some inexperienced civilians, thank you very much), the thought of such a creature existing seemed completely ridiculous.

"Are you quite sure this princess exists, Captain?" he asked after the other two had gone.

"Of course, Major," the Captain replied. "I told you; the King believed in her magic."

"Yes, well, did you ever actually see her? Is there any proof that she actually exists?"

"There are stories about her..."

Mint scoffed. "Fairy tales, most likely."

"Those stories have to come from somewhere, Major. Besides, how could they know where she is if she doesn't exist?"

"You're actually going to believe a talking nutcracker?"

"You did."

The Major didn't say anything to that.

"Shall I be the one to tell the villagers?" asked Candy.

"No, Captain, I shall announce it at dinner. Tell them they'll have to fend for themselves for awhile; I'm sure they'll understand."

Candy grinned. "I can think of one who'll be sad to see you go."

The Major frowned. "I am aware of that, Captain."

"They're quite worried about you, Major. You should spend more time with them; talk to them a bit more. They think you don't like them."

"I have a job to do; a job that keeps them safe. Tell them that, and make sure they realise it. The last thing I need right now are some old biddies asking me to join them for tea and biscuits."

"I'll pass it along," Candy said as he made his way towards the door. "Just thought I'd let you know, though; it's not old biddies asking after you."

Mint didn't even dignify that with a response; he went straight back to plotting the quickest route to the Sea of Storms. Even if they didn't have a hope in hell of finding this princess, at least he could say he'd done his part.